


Bits'n'Bobs

by MsMeiriona



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman, Once Upon a Time (TV), Stardust - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMeiriona/pseuds/MsMeiriona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of crossovers and prompts to get my brain working. Mostly short, mostly comedic and/or fluffy..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Travelling Horror Show

**Author's Note:**

> batsonthebrain prompted: A mad swan discworld crossover. the thought has me in tears of insane joy.
> 
> and me, too. this is what IMMEDIATELY popped into my head, but I may continue the adventures of the Hat's visitors.

Emma still never knew what to expect when she went to see Jefferson. The relationship was shaky, at best, but the Hatter had spent so much time (and many, many home-cooked dinners) apologizing for his mistreatment of her and her mother that over time, she came to enjoy his company and even seek it out. She knew that when he was lucid, he was clever and sweet, and a model father to Grace. The lucidity lasted longer and longer the more time he spent with her, and they had been able to try public outings without fear of an attack of madness mid-meal.

The problem was that the hat apparently wasn't the only way people could get from world to world, but it tended to be a nexus point when they did. Last week it had been a man in a red robe with a hat that read 'wizzard'. There had been a lot of babbling going on, and the man had left them with a scream of "OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITIMGONNADIE" as his body was abruptly yanked out of their reality.

This week, it wasn't a person that had arrived, but a... thing.

At first glance it was normal enough, just a large old fashioned trunk. Emma had no idea why Jefferson was perched on the counter.

"Emma! Stay away from it!"

Eyebrows raised, she skirted the object. "What, this? It's just a trunk, what's so frightening about....a ... trunk?" For as she spoke, the trunk had turned to, for lack of a better word, _look_ at her. And that was when she noticed it had dozens of tiny feet.

Ok, so that was weird, but not frightening, why was he so scared?

"What... is this thing?" Emma reached out a hand tentatively, and the trunk opened its lid to reveal what on anything but an oversized jewellery box would have been called teeth.

 

They spent the afternoon huddled on the counter while the Luggage smashed its way through the house, finally battering through the walls of space and time to follow its owner.


	2. Oh, Rats.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neverwheredreamer prompted: Mad Swan Neverwhere?
> 
> and it would have been longer, but when it just decided to round out so nicely at 100 words, well, I couldn't resist leaving it there.

"Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to bring us here. I'll get us back. I'm sorry."

All the apologizing in the world wasn't going to make Emma any happier. She was in a _sewer_. Surrounded by _rats_. Rats that Jefferson was talking to, who apparently _listened_.

"This isn't any better than our first date, Jefferson. Maybe we should give up using the Hat for transportation?"

"No, it's fine. We'll just go to the Market, do some shopping, and then be back home in time for tea."

"Jefferson" Emma warned, "What have I said about tea?"

"Figure of speech, love"


	3. Fallen Stars and Summer Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crossover that actually was beating my head to get out, and the reason I made this little collection.

Her eyes were the blue of a summer sky, and full of sorrow. That was why he let her in. Because for a moment, he thought he was seeing a ghost.

But no, her hair was a golden-white, bright as moonlight, and when Rumplestiltskin looked again at the eyes, he saw reflected in them the wisdom of ages, and he knew she was not human.

"A fallen star? What brings you to my doorstep, Lady?" He queried, looking for the faint glow that should accompany a happy star, and finding it entirely absent.

"Love." She answered, and unshed tears glistened in those ancient eyes. "Love, and loss."

He grimaced. "Lot of that going around these days. Well, come in, take a seat, no need to have you stand on my account." He noticed the limp, but did not comment on it. There was no reason to be rude about such things.

When the star had seated herself, he asked. "So, what has love done to you that you come seeking my aid?"

The star shifted in her seat. "My husband, you see, I gave him my heart, and now he's gone." Her voice quivered. "He was the Lord of Stormhold, Tristran Thorn. But he was half human and, as humans do, he died."

"I can't bring back the dead, Lady." Rumplestiltskin began, but the star shook her head.

"Yvaine, please, call me Yvaine. And I do not wish to bring him back, he was peaceful in the end. It's just, we had our years together, and the memories..."

He thought he understood now. "You wish to forget? I can easily manage that."

"No!" Yvaine snapped. "I would never desire to forget my Tristran. Never. That is why I am here. It's been so long, I'm starting to lose my hold. It is hard to bring to mind his eyes, his smile. I need a way to always remember."

Rumplestiltskin had to admit, this was something new. A broken heart, and she wanted to keep it broken. Perhaps this was something the stars had learned that humans might never understand. "You want to keep your pain forever fresh? Why?"

"Spinner, you ask why I would remember my love, pain and all?" Yvaine stood and walked a circle, limp more pronounced, but her tongue all the sharper for it. "Because I owe him that. When you give your heart to someone, it's forever. If I forget even a moment of our time together, from the time I first met him and threw dirt clods at his face when he chained me up, when he splinted my broken leg, asking about how I fell, to the moment he saved my life by sticking his hand into a fire, to the very instant he smiled and slipped away, that would be a betrayal of everything we meant to each other."

Rumplestiltskin watched her as she spoke, and his eyes softened, remembering a dungeon floor, a chipped cup, a fall from a ladder, a kiss, rage, and a queen's words. Things he should not forget, memories he could not betray.

"I'll make up a potion. Wait here." His hands fluttered uneasily as he climbed the stairs to his workroom, and the potion was created quite quickly, for all it was an entirely new one. When he returned, it was with two open bottles of a clear liquid. He handed one to Yvaine, keeping the other for himself. He quickly plucked a hair from her head and dropped it in her bottle, which changed to the exact colour of forget-me-not blossoms.

"Whisper your love's name to the potion, then drink. Whenever you would remember, put a hand to your breast, where the heart he claimed would lie, and speak his name."

Yvaine nodded, but hesitated. "There is a price for this, what do I pay?"

Of course there would be a price. But Yvaine had done something for him that was worth far more than the preservation of memories. So he had to phrase his price carefully. "You know, this is a potion I would never have thought up on my own. Your need alone brought it into being." Saying this, he dropped a hair of his own into the bottle in his hand, which shifted its hue to match the one the fallen star held. "This is my price, that you tell no one that I sampled this for myself. You will not be able to speak of it, write or draw it, mime it, even _think_ of it should a telepath be about, in no way will you be able to communicate to anyone what you are about to witness."

When Yvaine nodded, Rumplestiltskin swallowed once in a throat as dry as a desert. _Do the brave thing,_ he thought, and whispered " _Belle_."

A single tear ran down his face as he upended the bottle, and oh, it tasted of that brief touch of her lips. Yvaine followed suit, and her tears flowed more freely, but she smiled as she did.

When she had finished, he watched her carefully as she lay a palm to her breast and said "Tristran."

The pained look came and went, and Rumplestiltskin was astonished, and quite pleased, when Yvaine began to glow, softly at first, but then brighter and brighter still until he could not bear to look at her.

"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin. Now I know my Tristran will never be truly gone, not so long as I live."

"Few thank me for causing them pain, Lady Yvaine. Thank you, for reminding me of my own debts."

Yvaine gave a courtly curtsey that made her silver gown pool about her legs, and he returned the gesture with a bow as low as one would only afford a superior, were one the most powerful being in all the realms.

Eyes like a summer sky haunted his memories, but that was good. He owed it to Belle never to forget.


	4. And so it ended.

It should have been a happy occasion, her birthday. Instead Belle sat twisting a ring about her finger and biting her lower lip in an attempt not to cry. She felt the body settle down beside her on the garden bench. For all that Midas' daughter had become a dear friend, she threw this lovely party after all, Belle couldn't help but long for the days when she wasn't surrounded by royalty and pageantry. She might have been able to end a conversation with a locked door, and not worry about other company. She might have been able to walk away without being followed.

Of course she knew who had followed her. She'd fled from conversation with him only moments before, after hearing his latest plans. She wouldn't look at him, but she could continue the conversation. After all, his careless words to another had revealed what he'd not had the courage to say to her face. "Another year before our wedding Rumplestiltskin?"

His hand closed over hers, trying to apologise without words, and failing. "It can't be helped Belle. How could we marry now, every week someone is trying to burn me out of my home. My deals haven't paid out as they should."

Belle fought the hysterical laugh that threatened to emerge. "So you said last year." She had thought she could wait as long as it took. She thought after twenty eight years, she could bear a while longer. Maybe it was too long. Maybe they'd drifted further than either of them had anticipated.

"Magic comes at a heavy price." It was a mantra he'd oft repeated, but now sounded like little more than an excuse to her.

"You've reunited with your son now," She began, but he sighed heavily in response.

"And he's only one more person I must protect."

"You said that finding him was the goal!" She twisted the ring further, looking up with anger and tears mixing in her eyes. Why couldn't he let her in at last? Hadn't it been long enough? Belle choked back a sob, reaching out to cup his face with a hand, searching it for a sign. For a hint that he understood what she wanted from him.

He let her, resting his own hand overtop hers, and made his back straight as possible. "This is for your sake, I love you Belle." The words came out almost as rote as his line on magic, and Belle turned away from him, gathering up her skirts in one hand and rising from her seat.

She couldn't be close to him. Not anymore. "You did, once." She hurried back inside, desperate to find Abigail and beg for a private room and the rest of the evening in peace, leaving her gloves on the garden bench, the golden ring glinting atop them as Rumplestiltskin gaped wordlessly after her.

And so it ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First person who correctly identifies what movie I adapted this conversation from gets three cookies and a hug.


	5. The Woman In The Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discworld crossover, spoilers for the end of Witches Abroad, set about 100 years into Rumple's time as the Dark One

There was a woman in his mirror. A woman, dressed all in white and pounding on the glass to get out. A smile crept to Rumplestiltskin's face, and a twittering giggle escaped him as he circled the mirror, clucking his tongue and shaking his head.

"Lady Lilith de Tempscire, or should I call you Lily again?" He waggled a finger at her as ice blue eyes attempted to make him catch fire from sheer force of will. It might have worked too, if she weren't his junior by almost a century. Instead, he simply laughed and mimed waving a wand. "Not so happily ever after for you, is it? I warned you about the mirrors, dearie. Godmothering is a daft task at best, but doubling mirrors never ends well."

Lady Lilith de Tempscire, known to a rare few (Including Rumplestilstkin of course. What use would it be if he didn't know?) As Lily Weatherwax, was a witch. She was also a fairy godmother, but any soppy girl with a wand can call herself a godmother. Even the wand had its limits, and Lady Lilith had no desire to be limited by anything. So she looked and looked and asked about power, and, being a wilful girl who had run off at thirteen (Don't let anyone tell you she was kicked out. It was entirely her choice. She had never intended to stay in that house anyway.)It was only natural when she found Rumplestiltskin in the middle of an ill fated attempt to find some anti-magic world, she had asked him about power.

It was the age that fooled him, really, he always was too soft on children. But the woman got hers in the end, didn't she? He'd told her all the ways to get more power, how to take it from elsewhere. And of course, 'All magic, comes with a price. You have to pay for the power you take'

He'd warned her, fair enough. But she'd seized on mirrors, because, she had said, then you're only drawing from yourself. He'd made a rude comment about her thinking herself quite clever and powerful, but what happens when you run out of self?

Well, obviously this. The mirrors had claimed her.

"Lily, Lily, Lily, however did you get into this mess?" It was fun, taunting her like this, she couldn't get out, but she could see and hear him. And since he'd long since turned the sound off the blasted thing, she couldn't get a word in edgewise against his mockery. "I expect you kept going with your Stories, yes? Trying to make Happy Endings and Magic Kingdoms and all that. Using magic for everything, heedless of the cost."

Lily vanished from the mirror in anger, and for a moment Rumplestiltskin thought she'd given up. But no, there she was again, running past in an endless loop. Silly woman had no idea how to get out of that netherworld, that prison made of her own soul.

He actually pulled up a chair and footstool to watch, since there was an element of hilarity to the woman circling within the mirror. Again, Lily paused and pounded on the mirror, making rude gestures.

"Oh, that's no language for a lady. You're showing your roots, Lily." He could use some peanuts or something, this show was too good to be true.

"What's that dearie? You want me to _help_ you? Can't imagine why I'd do something like that. You didn't take my advice before." By now, he'd seen how scared Lily was, but it was different watching a scared old woman than it was a child in the same state. He could laugh and mock, and take pleasure in her suffering, knowing as he did that she'd gotten herself into this state all on her own. Despite many trying to warn her from her path, himself included.

Finally, after waving once at a grinning skull that passed behind Lily, he decided to take a small amount of pity on the woman, and gestured to the mirror to allow sound.

"I should have won! I _had_ won! She was beat, I'm the good one, we're supposed to win!"

"Whining doesn't become you, Lily Weatherwax. Who was beaten? And what, pray tell, makes you think you were ever the 'good one'?"

"Oh, you're listening now? I thought I was just talking to hear myself speak for a moment there.  Now get me out of here." Instead of answering his questions, the rude old woman had gone straight to ordering him around.

He stood and walked out of the room, hearing Lily's shouted demands for help as he went; and when he returned it was with a bedspread from a trunk in his room.

"What is that? How is that going to help me?"

He laughed, and tossed it over the mirror, shrouding it completely. "It isn't, Lily my dear" He loved using her birth name, it so rankled her. "You can't escape the world of illusions until you can identify reality. And since I know you, I know you never will be able to find reality. You've lived your whole life pretending to be something else and changing the world to suit you, never once accepting it as it is. You can't re-write the mirrors. Your story is over. I'm closing the book now. Goodbye, Lily Weatherwax."

He silenced the mirror with another gesture. He'd have to keep it covered for the next few years, long enough for Lily to lose herself completely in her illusions.


	6. No Privacy In This Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson's spying on things meets the curse of the Rumbelle date.

It wasn't _really_ spying, Jefferson reasoned. They were out in public; _anyone_ could see them, framed so nicely in the front window of the diner. You can't call it spying when they're out in public. Even if he _was_ using a telescope to see them.

Besides, Rumplestiltskin had been very nearly a friend in the old world, and in this one a friend was something both men could use. And yes, this was probably not the socially acceptable manner of trying to help your friend's love life, but since they hadn't really had words since the curse broke (trying to weaponise a man's emotions isn't the best way to get into their good, heh, graces, after all) he would have to settle for observation and an anonymous note sent later by way of Henry Mills.

Belle continued to flourish in this world, he could see, smiling and wearing bright primary colours with skirts that rarely reached the knee. She was speaking animatedly about something, his lip reading suffering as he watched their body language. Gold was barely blinking, and even a madman could tell you that after a while that gets unnerving.

"Stop staring, you moron," He murmured, not sure if the fact the man couldn't hear him was a blessing or a curse. "Say something nice, compliment her or, ah, there we go."

Based on the sweeping hand gesture, and Belle's faint flush, he'd probably just made some sort of reference to the rest of the town paling compared to her beauty. No, scratch that, the rest of the _world_. Oh, that would be smooth; if it weren't for the way he seemed to forget where to put his hands after something like that.

"Her hand is on the table. You grasp it. Kiss it. Something." Yes, Jefferson had to admit his own grasp of personal space wasn't quite on, well then what of him was, but he knew that Gold should be touching her right now.

Saved by the waitress. At least now Gold had something to do with his hands, now the food had arrived. They were still talking between bites, which was good.

"Oh, Rumplestiltskin you are a sight." Jefferson's mouth twitched into a smirk at how oblivious the man was. He just kept picking at his food, when it was obvious from her motions Belle was trying to coax something out of him. As men of flash and glamour, they'd acted out many a scheme, but this was an almost childlike scene. She was asking him something. He pulled back the view a bit, trying to watch both individual's motions and read her lips at the same time. _When we find..._ something he couldn’t make out... _together_.

Gold was smiling faintly, but not looking up from his food. It was easier to read his lips, but at this distance, he could still only make out phrases. _Garden filled with flowers. A home... anything you ask for._

"Knew it. He's got it bad." He'd borne witness to Mary Margaret and David's clumsy flirtations, watched the ill fated romance between Miss Swan and Sheriff Graham. But this reminded him of nothing so much as when he watched the school playground, waiting for a glimpse of his Grace. Children with no idea how to flirt acted as Gold was.

Gold was still describing what seemed like dreams for the future, eyes firmly fixed on his plate, a faint blush in his cheeks.

"You damned idiot. Look up. Look at her." This was maddening, and if his words could have reached Gold, he wouldn't change a one of them at this point. "She's staring at your mouth and licking her lips. Gods man, if you'd glance up you'd see it!"

But no, he waited too long to look up, and the stare had been replaced with a nodding smile, as Belle resumed eating herself. At least Belle seemed to understand how a date worked. She knew when to reach out and barely touch his hand, when to steal fries off his plate, she even offered him to try her drink, and laughed at his stumbling refusal.

"Oh, take the drink you idiot. If you're not going to kiss her, at least touch what her lips have touched. "

"Papa, who are you talking to?"

Grace!

Jefferson very nearly upset the telescope, caught in the act. Had it really been so long? He'd thought he'd have an hour before Grace returned from school. Well no wonder Belle had been getting so forward, they must have been eating at snail's pace to have taken so long.

"No one, Gracie, let's go out today. Have you seen how the library?"

 

At Granny's, Rumplestiltskin sighed and took Belle's hand as they left for his shop. Finally, the feeling of eyes on him had vanished, and even though he couldn't see anyone who had been staring, he knew.

"No privacy in this damn town." He muttered, and Belle looked up at him, confused. He declined to elaborate, it wasn't worth it.

 


End file.
